


Trial by Fire

by theskywasblue



Category: Bleach
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo has a goal - and a lot of hurdles to jump over to get there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trial by Fire

Byakuya stared at him across the vast expanse of the unnecessarily large room, sitting so still – perfectly straight-backed and regal – that he hardly seemed to be breathing.

Ichigo _wasn't_ breathing. He was pretty sure that he hadn't had a decent breath of air in a good ten minutes. He wasn't afraid, despite the fact that the last time he had crossed swords with Rukia's imposing brother, the outcome had been more or less, almost but not quite, technically a draw (although Ichigo would never admit that out loud).

There was also still a decent chance that Byakuya could kill him if he tried hard enough.

He was working really hard to pretend that his palms weren't sweating.

"You're going to have to repeat that," Byakuya said finally after taking a deep, breath.

As anxious as he was – which, Ichigo tried to convince himself, wasn't very – he wasn't about to engage in some kind of 'my blood runs bluer than yours' pissing contest with anyone – but especially not Kuchiki Byakuya. That would only make what he was trying to accomplish a hell of a lot more difficult.

"You heard what I said."

A deep frown settled on Byakuya's brow, "Have you discussed this with Rukia?"

Ichigo bit back a sigh, "I thought I should at least be able to tell her that I had already asked _you_ first."

He wished, really wished, that he didn't have to jump through so many damn hoops. It was almost enough to make the whole thing more trouble than it was worth.

Almost.

"And what will you do if I refuse?"

Ichigo resisted, with great difficulty, the urge to roll his eyes, because he had pretty much expected things to go that way. Byakuya never gave anyone – especially Ichigo – an inch in anything.

"Honestly – your opinion doesn't mean a hell of a lot to me. It's not going to stop me."

The Captain's eyes drifted closed, and a wry sort of smile came to rest at the corner of his lip, "I didn't expect it to. However, it might very well stop her."

Ichigo knew that could be true. Rukia had an infuriating sense of obedience when it came to her brother. What Ichigo wouldn't sometimes have given to command that same sort of compliance from the petite Shinigami.

Of course, then she wouldn't be Rukia, and he probably wouldn't be having this conversation with Byakuya at all. His life would also be a lot less interesting; and less harrowing.

"I'm still going to try," Ichigo said finally.

Byakuya stood, tossing his long, dark hair back and carefully smoothing the front of his hakama with sharp, practiced movements. Ichigo wondered if all noble households gave their members lessons on how to be condescendingly dismissive. Considering that Rukia could manage the same thing – with an equal if not superior amount of grace – they probably did.

"Stubborn as always, Kurosaki Ichigo," Byakuya sighed, turning away towards the door, "I suppose there is nothing I can do to stop you. In the interest of my sanity, I shall leave it in Rukia's hands."

Once he was gone, Ichigo literally fell back on the tatami, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. That was one down, and he even still had all his limbs intact.

***

Renji stared at him in complete disbelief, crimson eyes as wide as cheap dinner plates, "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Ichigo answered. That could probably have be considered a bad pun, but Ichigo didn't care; he was more than halfway through a very large bottle of sake, and felt considerably less stressed than he had in days, perhaps weeks.

"That's the craziest idea I've ever heard! Do you even realize what you're setting yourself up for?"

Ichigo snorted, "Yes."

Sitting on the rooftop of 6th Division headquarters, he could see for a fair distance out across the Soul Society. Night was setting in and the sun hung low, casting a faint orange and pink glow over everything. It was nearly the same, Ichigo reflected, as the sunset that he had seen five years ago, on what he had thought would be the last night he was ever going to see Rukia again.

"Well," Renji drained his glass with one breathless gulp and poured himself another, swirling it contemplatively, "I sure as hell wouldn't do it."

Ichigo gave him a sour look, and wondered if he should try and challenge the comment, but his body was feeling pleasantly numb and tingly from the alcohol, so instead he muttered, "Sorta the point."

"What I mean is," Renji slugged back his newest drink and picked up the bottle instead, "I ain't gonna try an' stop you or anythin' like that. All I can say is – you'd better do it right – don't fuck it up."

"And how a-zactly…" Ichigo slurred unexpectedly. It felt as if his tongue had become a deadweight in his mouth and he paused for a moment to allow himself time to remember how the thing worked, "How _exactly_ would I fuck it up, smartass?"

"I dunno…"Renji drained the bottle in one long swig and then gazed mournfully into its depths, the last drops falling out on his cheek, "but if anyone could fuck up something so simple it'd be you."

"Now just a damn…" Ichigo rose unsteadily to his feet, bracing himself against the spinning world and gestured threateningly at the red-head – except that there were now at least three Renji's grinning snidely at him, "You wanna fight? I'll take you all on…"

He reached for his Zanpakutou, and found nothing but air. Then he remembered that they had left their swords inside, in the training hall after their sparring match.

"Jus' lemme get my sword…"

With that, he stepped gracelessly off the edge of the roof and plunged two storeys to the pavement below.

When he awoke, he was being carried 4th division headquarters by a team of medics and Renji was swaggering alongside his stretcher.

"Best of luck man," Renji slurred, patting him good naturedly on the shoulder, "remember, it's your funeral."

***

"Jeez dad – pull yourself together – this is shameful. You're acting like a little girl."

Kurosaki Isshin, former Shinigami Captain wiped his dripping nose on the sleeve of his son's shirt, and continued to blubber incoherently. Ichigo thought he could make out the words: "Oh Masaki…What a day…Our little boy…" and disgustingly sappy things of that nature.

"Alright, that's enough already!" He tried to disengage himself from the wailing man, but couldn't manage it without Isshin's hands tearing chunks out of his favourite T-shirt, "You're acting like it's the end of the world or something."

Master of the dramatic mood-swing, Isshin released his son so quickly that Ichigo's own energy propelled him backwards onto the kitchen table.

"It's not the end!" Isshin bellowed, gesturing dramatically and nearly taking out a light fixture, "It's only the beginning of a grand future! Oh Ichigo, you make your daddy so proud!"

And then, he was blubbering again.

Ichigo picked himself out of a mess of breakfast dishes, brushed the cornflakes off his ass, and rubbed at his temples. He was still nursing a fine hangover from the drinking binge of previous night, and all the Advil in the world wasn't enough to stop his father's bellowing voice from grating on his abused brain cells.

"Listen, maybe I should come back once you've had a chance to think about it…"

"Think?!" Isshin grabbed Ichigo by the front of his shirt and shook him, causing the young man's head to snap violently back and forth as he struggled to avoid being tossed like a rag-doll, "What's there to think about?! Of course you're going to do it! I give you my complete blessing! You should do it right now!"

"No thanks dad," Ichigo managed to extricate himself from the man's overzealous grasp, "I can handle the rest myself."

But as he was heading for the door, desperate to make a speedy escape before his father could start bawling again, a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Wait a minute Ichigo. There's something I want to give you."

***

Part of him had expected Orihime to be sad when he gave her the news. Maybe it was because, on some level, he still felt a little guilty about not recognizing her feelings for him until she had already turned her attentions to someone else.

Not that he would really want to be in Ishida's place. Orihime was a great girl, a great friend; but Ichigo would never have thought about being with her like that. Plus, he really couldn't begrudge the Quincy all his happiness.

"That's so wonderful Kurosaki-kun, I'm so happy for you, I…"

And then the tears started. Ishida patted her reassuringly on the shoulder. Ichigo could already see the wheels of design turning in his head.

"Not you too," Ichigo sighed, raking a hand trough his shockingly orange hair, "My old man bawled his head off. Everybody acts as if I'm dying or something."

They waited until Orihime had recovered herself. By that time the kettle was whistling shrilly, and Ishida got up to make the tea.

"Uryuu's happy for you too."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, "You'd never tell by looking at the guy. You're not surprised at all, are you?"

Orihime laughed, "Not even the tiniest bit Kurosaki-kun. Was it supposed to be a surprise?"

"Well…" he hated the thought that it was all so obvious, that he had become predictable, readable, "for Rukia, at least."

When he left about an hour later, Ishida said nothing – still formulating plans in his head, no doubt – and Orihime hugged him once to her ample chest, and cried a little on his shoulder.

Ichigo walked away still wondering what all the tears were about.

***

Out of all the people he had to talk to, Chad was by far the easiest. He simply looked at Ichigo for a very long moment before saying, "Okay."

***

"So listen, Rukia…"

They sat together at the edge of the river, listening to the sound of the water, eating shaved ice and waiting for the stars to come out – not that they would ever really see them, too much light from the town around them, but it was a nice thought.

Ichigo wondered exactly what he was supposed to say, so that it wouldn't come out awkward or stupid sounding. He would have asked his father for advice, but knowing Isshin, he had bungled the whole experience fantastically when it had been his turn.

"What the heck is wrong with you Ichigo?" Rukia scowled at him, reached out and put one cool, slim hand on his forehead, "are you sick or something? All night you've been starting these sentences that you never finish. It's really annoying."

Ichigo scowled into his shaved ice. Apparently he was off to a fantastic start in the 'bungling it' department. At this rate, there was no way in hell he was going to manage to prove Renji wrong.

Just when he thought he had come up with the perfect words, the most articulate expression that would leave her absolutely no opportunity to argue with what he was about to say, her pager went off.

"Dammit," she growled, setting her shaved ice aside on the grass, "Hollow alert."

"What? Now?!"

"Yes_ now_," she was already on her feet and out of her gigai, sword in hand – the tiny, black valkyrie that Ichigo had first glimpsed all those years ago, back when he still thought he was a (relatively) normal teenager, and everything around him was just as it seemed to be, "What are you doing? Hurry up!"

"But I…" he began lamely, impossibly flustered, "Fuck! Fine!"

He left his body and ran after her – had to, because she was already charging ahead of him into whatever danger was waiting for them – cursing all the way.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded as he caught up. He could already see the Hollow – an enormous thing that looked like the bastard child of a shark and iguana – tearing a path up a busy street, sending late-night shoppers scattering in all directions, running instinctually from a threat that they couldn't even see.

"It's not like we can't finish our date later!"

If it was so obvious to everyone else, Ichigo wondered bitterly as he went at the Hollow full force, barely dodging a swipe of its enormous, clawed hand, why couldn't it be obvious to her? Why did she never manage to understand what he was trying to do until he had already done it?

"Goddamn it Rukia! This isn't just _some date_! I'm trying to propose!"

Rukia leapt on to the Hollow's back, gripping its enormous dorsal fin and piercing it's shoulder with her Zanpakutou in an almost futile attempt to hold on as it tried to twist around and get her in its teeth, "Propose what?!"

"God you can be so _thick_ sometimes! I'm trying to ask you to marry me!"

And there it was, just as Renji had predicted, he had fucked it all up, somehow managing to insult Rukia and ask her to marry him in nearly the same breath. Possibly the worst proposal in the history of all mankind, perpetrated by one Kurosaki Ichigo, Shinigami. Surely it would go down in the record books.

Somewhere in the midst of his monumental fuck up, he had also managed to kill the Hollow, but it hardly mattered.

Rukia gave him a pointed look. Ichigo stared at the ground and tried to resist the urge to disembowel himself with his Zanpakutou.

"Marry you?" she said finally.

Ichigo managed to nod, "Dad even gave me mom's old ring."

He reached instinctively for his pocket, before remembering that the ring was with his body, back by the river. Yet another screw up – but on the list of the stupidest things he had done that night, it still came in a distant second to screaming his marriage proposal along with the words 'god you can be so thick'.

"Sometimes," she sighed, "you can be so stupid."

Alright, so she was going to say no. Well, that was fine. Understandable really, considering that his had put not only one but _both_ of his feet in his mouth. And maybe she wasn't ready; hell, maybe _he_ wasn't ready after all, although he wanted it desperately, the way he hadn't wanted anything since – well, since before he had seen her with her clothes off, but that was hardly the same thing. That was lust, and this was…was…

"I love you."

His heart did one of those near-painful twists that only she could inspire, and for the second time in as many days, Ichigo was pretty sure that he had stopped breathing.

"So, of course I have to say yes."

"Well you don't have to," he snorted bitterly – even as his heart danced inside his chest and sang _'yes yes yes – she said yes!_' – because he didn't want her to feel like she was obligated or some stupid thing. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck with a bitchy, bitter Rukia for the rest of – well, possibly eternity.

"If you don't want to – then I don't really care, it's…"

She put a hand over his mouth. She practically had to stand on his feet to manage it, but she did.

"Shut up," she commanded sharply, "I'm saying yes. And you can't stop me."

He wanted to say that he had absolutely no intention of trying – because really, when had he ever been able to stop her from doing anything? – but she would have had to take her hand off his face for that.

_I love you_, he thought joyously, knowing she would read his thoughts through his eyes, _you're the most fantastic woman I've ever met and eternity doesn't seem nearly long enough. Now would you please take your hand off my face so I can kiss you._

-End-


End file.
